


Belly Of The Beast

by orphan_account



Series: Belly Of The Beast [1]
Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Kim Is Alive, Minor Character Death, Plot Twists, Some Humor, Some Swearing, Still Has Key Events, possible ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: On the planet of Sera, humans and a subterranean species known as the Locust wage war upon each other. The Coalition of Ordered Governments, COG, and the Stranded are what remains of humanity.However, it was believed no one would be able to survive without being affiliated to a Stranded Clan or the COG. That was, until the Delta Squad, led by Sergeant Marcus Fenix, were helped by two young outsiders to both societies. Their expertise of the Locust Horde greatly outclassed their own and gruff Fenix had to use them to complete his mission.





	1. Chapter 1

The sun glared down on the planet of Sera, punishing all who moved in its presence. Melting into the shadows, two figures skittered around blasts of light and rubble, picking the most obscure way across the landscape to reach the city of Ephyra. They were light footed, carrying an arsenal of weapons for defensive purposes. 

As if following the progress of the shadows, the star in the sky lit most of their trail, forcing them to take dangerous routes to be invisible. 

Ah. There it was. Ephyra city. 

They moved to look down from a distance, going into the light cautiously. Slight in build, both were runners by nature, the humans had the stamina to last these expeditions out into the world from their hidden lair. 

Flipping billowing hair back into a constricting band, the girl made sure it was not loose before she unslung a long barrelled weapon. Metallic grey in colour, a purple-blue sight flickered at her as she lowered an eye to gaze through the scope. Their way was as clear as crystal. 

She nodded to her companion, who had checked behind them while she had scouted their way.  
"All clear, Shot," a soft breath carried those words to Shot, who roadie ran his way to her side, vaulting over the shelf of rock she had used as a prop for the rifle. It was a single-handed vault as his other hand was preoccupied with clutching his Longshot. 

His clothes swung with the action, too big for his slight frame. Her own clothes were the same. It was all they had, All they could scavenge from the ruins of houses or Locust seiged areas. They could not waste precious time checking to see if the clothes they found were just right or not. Clothes too small were cleaned and used as bandages. After that, they were stored safely, ready for use. Clothes that fit them had the same treatment, except that they encased the thin skin of the two humans with the fabric of the material and provided an extra layer of defence from the elements.

Unfortunately, they had no armour of any kind. This meant that they were easily injured by weapons, and could be killed with a well placed shot or slice to any area of the body which held a major artery or important organ. 

Shot and the girl took the most dangerous but shaded routes because of this vulnerability. With a low risk of encountering a patrol, Locust or human, these unsafe and often unstable routes were very unassailable. It steadied the humans' minds to know this. 

Leaving the woodlands behind them, the two made sure to keep out of sight. The softer rock here made the outskirts of the city susceptible to Emergence Holes. 

Luckily for them, the grubs were occupied within the city by two squads of Gears. Delta Squad, led by Lieutenant Mihn Young Kim, and Alpha Squad, pinned down by troikas and a lack of ammo. 

The humans noticed a small patrol up ahead. Shot led the girl into cover, crouching behind a pile of rocks. Unpredictably, the beasts switched direction, setting off at a jog towards Ephyra. Curious, the girl turned to her companion, watching his face as she spoke quietly.  
"There must be a fight in Ephyra, Shot. It might be Stranded."

His answer was tense and his voice strained.  
"But it might be COG. I know they mean well, but the last Gears we came across wouldn't spare some water for us 'street rats'."

"I know, but whoever they are, they are fellow strugglers against the Locust Horde. Surely we can at least check it out. I mean, we are heading to the city either way."

With a shake of his head, the boy agreed to follow them. As he crept around their cover, he muttered, "I can't believe I'm doing this..."

With a considerate but quick pace, the humans were able to keep the patrol in sights, ducking behind cover or sliding beneath cars at any sound. This was the most riskiest thing the two had pulled off in a few months, after their last adventurous excursion had not ended well.

The men made of porous mountain grunted with each vault over rubble blocking their path. It was a small group by grub standards, only three drones. There was a grenadier with the group, holding its signature Gnasher while two grenades swayed at its hip. 

If it spotted them, they would know. 

With their decisive movements, in time with the patrol they were tailing, the sapiens remained undetected. Spying a shattered door, from which a demoralized door oscillated despairingly. Scuttling over to the agape building, the humans traversed through ruptures in walls, portals to neighbouring premises. Rundown and left to rot, the structures were sometimes a precarious route. But they offered the best vantage points and looting.

Ahead of them, the heavy drat of Lancer fire caused both to dive beneath a dusty desk. After assessing where the sounds were coming from, they crawled out and snuck further along the buildings, until they could look upon the burning corpse of a Raven, surrounded by a swarm of Locust. The Locust were charging humans.


	2. Chapter 2

They gazed at the one-sided fight with mixed emotions. The reflection of blue flashes from the armour sported by the split group of humans, wrenched apart by the copter in their midst, gave them the identity of the group. One bald man sprayed his lancer's ammunition to sustain the distance between the wave of Locust and the island of himself. Hunched behind a convenient wall of grey debris, the other five Gears used their guns to claw for dominence over the battle.

Gears. COG. Shot grimaced, scrutinising the odds of the humans surviving this battle without retreating. It did not look good. The girl tugged at his arm, whispering that he should help them.

"They need it, Shot, please!"

When she got no answer, she unholstered her rifle, balancing the extensive barrel against the curiously unharmed sill of a window. The glass was missing, as if it had left to allow the gun to move into its new nook. 

She barely had time to take a steadying breath before her longshot was dragged soundlessly from her predetermined sniper spot.

"Are you crazy, Harper? There could be Locust in here!"

His voice hissed in warning, and something the female was used to and had learned to ignore. 

 "But those humans need help!"

"We need to stay aliv-"

The girl gasped as a black-swathed Locust stomped from the clouded air. Between tank legs, a leather-looking flap, a lot stronger than the flap seemed to be, fluttered back and forth with each step the intense monstrosity completed. Even worse, the human who the Locust had his eye on was oblivious to the very dangerous predicament he was in.

Harper almost stood, stopped by her fear of being spotted by that Locust and the secure bar Shot created with his arm, wrapping around her shoulders.

"We have to go, Harper. Before he spots us..."

"But Shot, this could be your chance to kill him!"

Gaping at her sudden vehemence, the male shook his head with finality.   
"We leave. Now."

"But-"

"If he's here, th-"

Her hand connected violently with his cheek, throwing Shot's head back and pressing his head against the windowsill sharply. 

"We help them!"

With a sigh of defeat, the boy nodded, unholstering his Longshot at the same time the female human did.

Watching upon the firefight happening below their hiding spot, the two humans rested their longshots against the rubble of the wall. Aiming down the sight, the boy witnessed the lone Gear defend his position. Behind him, a beast stalked forward with confident steps, picking out his prey with a decisive point of an index finger. 

"Harper, look away." Shot commanded her, hissing under his breath.

**** 

Down on the battlefield, the isolated soldier felt the vibrations running through the ground. Some huge asshole was making an earthquake behind him. 

Spinning on his heel, the Gear had a look of shock upon his face, but he didn't waste a second. This was General RAAM, killer of Alicia Valera, destroyer of Illima City. This was Lieutenant Mihn Young Kim's chance to avenge her death, their deaths. 

Unfortunately, luck was on that malignant tumour's side as Kim's Lancer jammed, clunking with the pressure of having to deal with the sweaty revenge of the human. 

The human thought quick, reving the dormant chainsaw attached snugly to the underneath of his barrel. With all the strength his well worked body could muster, the Lieutenant whole-heartedly threw himself face first, baring the revolving teeth at RAAM. 

No effort was required by the General as he caught the gun mid thrust, the armour encasing his hand protecting his hard hide from the ripping teeth. In the same moment, his gargantuan fingers had closed around the front of the weapon, a bear trap snapping freedom from its hapless victim.

The human didn't have time to react, take a breath, blink even, before his pathetic form of attack was disbanded from the driving force his body provided. RAAM drew back from the close encounter, placing his weight onto one foot before flicking the other out in a powerful kick to his adversary's armour protected chest.

The sudden push backwards stunned the human as he skidded away from the Locust. Stomps alerted the downed Gear to his approaching doom. Turning around, the human stumbled to his feet in time for his left cheek to welcome the stunning blow of RAAM's huge sandpaper fist. 

Unable to comprehend the force, the man fell unconscious, his body caught by the unfeeling floor. 

"Marcus no! We're here for Alpha and the resonator!" 

Clamping onto his friend's armour, one of the humans situated on the other side of the fire used his hold to drag the burly male towards the building behind them. They had to abandon this fight. It was unfortunate that they had to leave the Lieutenant behind. He was a good soldier, a good man. 

***

The girl shuddered, watching from her scope as the beast lifted the human man and deposited his body into the hold of an elite grenediar. The Locust and two others stripped him of his armour, leaving the broken and cracked pieces on the burning ground. 

"Why aren't they killing him?"  
She looked to her companion for an answer. He would surely have the answer, right? 

"I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

Having waited an hour for the horde of Locust to clear out, the two eventually picked their way down the street below where they had watched the group of humans somehow defend their position. Checking their ammo in each gun they owned, even the Boltok and Snub, the two knew that they were ready to go down and scout out the area. Locust had died there and they could scavenge what they could before the patrol to clean up this mess arrived.

The female was in shock from his answer. How did he not know the answer? Shot had to know the answer. If he didn't... Who did?

The street was silent, save for the laboured breathing coming from a prone body, human. Harper glanced into the face of the dying human, aiming her Snub at his throat. Her breathe caught and she lowered her weapon. This was another human, how could she just shoot them as if they were an animal to be put down?

Shot crouched beside the human, who reached with a grasping hand, gaining hold on his short and dragging the boy closer to him.  
"Please... Shoot me..."  
He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.  
"I won't last long..."

With a soft sigh, the boy unhooked his Snub, resting the business end against the man's jugular.  
"Godspeed, boy..."

"Godspeed, Gear," he replied as he lowered his weapon. Gazing over his wounds, Shot could tell that he wouldn't live, not with half the copter crushing his chest.

"Have faith, Gear."

He spoke, closing his eyes before he let a bullet fly and pierce the Gear's body. 

***

She cringed and sniffled as they continued their search around the street. Shot had taken the tags of the now dead male. He shuffled through the shattered armour from that bald man, jumping when the man's tags clicked to the concrete floor. 

"God damn..."

He chuckled to himself slightly, mentally hitting himself for being scared over a bit of metal. Picking it up, the human settled down as he learnt the name of the brave soul, and his rank.

'Lieutenant Mihn Young Kim'  
'Property of the Coalition of Ordered Governments'

Lieutenant Kim. Shot would remember him. 

Slipping the light metal into his breast pocket, the male turned at the sound of grunting Locust. 

"Harper!"  
He called, giving her a retreat sign before diving into the nearest open door. Harper scuttled underneath a part of the helicopter, not on fire. 

They were just in time too, as the clean-up crew burst onto the streets, lugging huge barrels with them, for the dead. 

Harper was able to meet Shot's eyes, noticing his frantic hand movements. Go home. Giving a slight nod, the female crawled her way in the opposite direction to the Locust patrol, rolling into cover, keeping her head down. She scurried as fast as she could, gladly putting distance between herself and the grubs. 

Once she was out of the city, the human stopped, panting hoarsely. Her chest heaved with each draw of air, the dragging force of her diaphragm clawing for each breathe as her thumping heart pumped vital blood to her muscles. Oxygen saturated haemoglobin clutched its share of the gas, releasing the load when needed. 

Not long after she had escaped the boundaries of the city, Shot appeared from the dusty landscape, panting like a horse. His steps were strained, and his face was scrunched up.

"Sh-"

"I'm fine, let's just keep moving."

His eyes connected with the falling sun, measuring the trajectory of the star. They didn't have long until sundown. They had to get back to their abode. 

Weighed down by their scavenged goods - clothes, ammo, and even some scraps of metal ripped from the dead - the humans trek across the expansive landscape back to their home, stopping to drink from a surprisingly clean river. The trees around it were lush with bright leaves, some even peppered with the beginning of a bloom.

"Shot, look, buds," Harper gasped, pouncing at the lowest branch baring these pale green buds. She pulled it towards her clothed chest, counting seven separate reverse droplets. She couldn't wait for them to blossom, sprouting splashes of colour onto the green backdrop of the trees. 

The male shuffled over, grinning at her enthusiastic approach to flora. When Harper was happy, Shot was too and visa versa. Both trusted each other implicitly, having been together for so long. Trust issues between them both would be their demise, or worse.

"Aren't those the buds we used for seasoning?"

"Yep! We should take some, especially if Kryll are on our menu tonight."

Shot chuckled, "They are. We will have to do some hunting with our bows tomorrow."

"Yes! I'll prepare some arrows for our trip. Did we save the antlers?"

The male nodded, finishing his work of filling up their water canteens. Always carrying more than needed, the water was dead weight but vital. Especially the spotless water running through the cragged, swerving banks. 

"Grab some buds," he hummed, spying the girl expertly prise the buds from the branch, filling a small pocket with the tasty plants. 

Not long after, the two continued their way home, keeping to the shadows. Their number one rule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you an Attack On Titan fan? Do you ship Krista and Ymir? If so, I suggest checking out [Two Sides Of The Same Coin](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10641897) by [ZolaTheBat.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ZolaTheBat)
> 
> Also, does anybody know if the names of the COG soldiers are on the tags? You'd think so, wouldn't you? How would the others know exactly who was dead/missing if they weren't?


	4. Chapter 4

Home was home, a winding maze of abandoned shafts crafted by the expert legs of a corpser. No longer needed to better the reach of the Horde, the catacombs were shadows of their former glory, forgotten veterans of war.

"Alright. We made it in time. I'll go set the traps, you get everything sorted."  
Shot ordered, handing Harper his load. The load was dropped, as she couldn't hold both at the same time. What had the male packed, a house?

She gave him an appalled look.  
"Am I your wife now?"

"Might as well be," he teased, giving her a mock kiss on the nose. The girl giggled and jerked her head away, scrubbing her nose against her bony shoulder. "Don't do that again!"

Playfully winking, he chuckled and crept off towards the Kryll traps. She waited until she was sure they hadn't been followed before wrapping both handles from each load around her petite wrist. Double checking her hold and the strength of the handles, the human starting to haul the needed items to her home. 

It was a harsh way home, but it helped the girl to stay fit and alert. She had to listen for any movement over the rustling of the loads. Very heavy loads. 

Luckily for her, the tunnels lived up to their normality. Abandoned. Isolated. Home. Safe. 

Rippling and swerving, the walls were of the finest natural excavators for such a large scale project. Extremely sturdy and protective as well. 

Her home was a maze, a contorted mess of mind-numbing rocks to bend and blur the thin line between reality and psychosis. With her open mind and her crystal perception of the world, no maze nor Locust could dampen her mind. Death could, but she accepted that death would be a reoccurring fracture in her otherwise stable world. 

She just hoped with all of her being that one of those fractures would not have the name Shot. 

A little while of walking backwards shoved a reward at her in the form of a rude metal door barricading her progress. Her rump collided with the metal object with a fleshy slap, quaking along her back in a wave of pain.

"Ouch..." 

She groaned, releasing the handles to rub her aching behind lovingly. How she hated not seeing that door. It had textures to the surface to blend in with the barren walls, to remain unnoticed by scouring grubs scavenging for a place to retreat from the Kryll. 

Harper's tiny hands grasped at the door latch, disengaging the lock to grant entrance into the abode. 

It was small, barely able to fit three people comfortably. Lucky for them, it was the two of them. Most of the space was raided supplies, and their simple beds - some thick blankets on the floor with a blanket to cover them. In the middle, away from any and all flammable materials, a fire pit resided with solidarity, brimming with wood and used clothes. It was lit to cook, and not for warmth. The scent of the fire would be a hazard to keep around, and so the flame was used as sparingly as possible. 

Matches or working lighters were also extremely limited and had to be conserved as much as possible. Fortunately, this load was pregnant with needed items, including two boxes of matches, and a half used lighter. 

Harper locked the door as she abandoned the baggage for a short amount of time, rummaging through their stockpile to find a boiling pot and two plates. Each meal, one a day to reduce waste and consumption, the two sapiens got on without everyday utensils such as forks or spoons. Items that were taken for granted by the COG. 

The girl placed the items beside the pit, returning her attention to the task at hand. With each slick grab, she arranged the new objects to their designated places. Guns clutching live rounds were stripped of their duty and retired to the little pile of their brethren. Clothes were tested and selected accordingly. Those which didn't fit her - as she was the smaller of the two by default clothes which didn't fit Harper would never fit her taller companion - were folded and stored where the bandages were. Skirts and dresses joined that pile. 

As she was used to sorting out the loads - usually with Shot however - the chore was done with speed and precision. This gave the female some time to relax from the tense day, retrieve her bundle of arrow making tools and parts, settle beside the stolen but oderless lamp and do her job.

Making arrows in the dim light of the lamp was dangerous but rewarding. The wood she used for the shafts could handle the pressure, tried and tested. The arrow heads were another matter and so Harper meticulously carved each tip from stone. The tips differentiated from other arrow heads in being longer but thinner, with barbs along the edges. It was easily shaken or ragged out from the flesh but doing so caused massive lacerations to the entry sight. Barbs became knives and the prey became butter under this design. 

A flaw? There was one. If their aim was off, the animal would not die on the first hit. 

She shuddered. It was a slow death she was scared of commiting.


	5. Chapter 5

The Kryll screeched their way out of the caves, leaving to devour anything which abandoned the refuge of the light. Shot gazed at the swarm of little beasts, an uncontrollable force to be reckoned with. Indomitable in almost every sense of the word, controlled by one person.

Now was not the time to delve into that fountain of memories and information just yet. First, he had to encourage a group of the flesh eaters to fly into his nets, using himself as bait.

***

Harper, too occupied with making sure the boiling pot was secure, didn't realise the time which had passed, gasping like a fish when her companion entered the cave.

"You scared me, Dakota!"

Dakota - AKA Shot - grinned slightly, apologising to her for scaring her. He deposited a bag of dead Kryll beside her, a dozen of them. This would be enough for a meal that night, maybe tomorrow morning too.

With the pot settled, the two humans got to work carving the skin from the bladed monsters and peeling the lean flesh from inedible bones.

They completed this task over the pot, allowing the blood to flood into the basin. Experience flourished in their mouths, shouting at the top of its lungs about the exquisite taste caused by the soon to be bubbling mix.

"Match, fire, food."

Harper chanted, gazing at Dakota as he dipped his bloody hands into a bucket of water, soaking up the liquid with a blemish free cloth. Searching fingers probed around his back pocket until they skimmed the rough red phosphorus and grinded glass of the ignition strip.

Grasping the small box, Dakota smirked, flicking out a match. It was a wooden square stretched out to be just over 2 inches in length, sporting a red bulge at the tip. Harper wriggled her way over, asking to light the fire. She was refused as the boy scrapped the match head along the phosphorus strip, sparking a baby fire not far from his fingertips.

He relinquished his clutch upon the stick of the match, allowing it permission to fall and bring a flame to the dry bracken awaiting to share its eternal exuberance in the form of heat. This heat would serve them well by cooking their meal, boiling the muscle and any impurities it may contain.

An added bonus was that the two infants, fire their superior in age and gathered respect, could bask in the element's generosity. Fire would warm them and feed them. Harper and Dakota revered the flickering flames as they licked at the underside of the metal pot.

"I get lost in its dance every time I watch it."

He mused, Harper laughing at his deep statement. She, bemused at her sudden thought, answered him with,

"You could get lost in RAAM's eyes..."

Not wanting to acknowledge any reply he gave, she turned her head to the side and down.

"Harper..."

"No, Dakota. I don't want to hear what you have to say about your crush."

"What?!"

He spluttered, nearly choking on the air he had inhaled, her words had shocked him that much.

"I do not have a crush on RAAM!"

Even when he raised his voice, Harper could still pick out that _stupid strain_ in its midst. A strain only accentuated by the increase in volume. A strain caused by that General, that grub, that _bastard_. Dakota could gravel for an excuse to make her see the 'good side' all he wished. Try as he might, Harper would not let her companion change her mind.

However, right now, the female had a great opportunity to tease the living daylight out of Dakota. Her voice gained a playful melody as she articulated words in a full sentence.

"I think you do~. You pine for that big bad Locust General."

She smiled innocently as she witnessed the usually pale face, no matter how much he flirted with the sun, sucked rushing blood to the vessels under his face skin, pulsing his face bright red.

"I do not!"

"Prove it."

"How can I prove it?"

"Hm... You have to... Hm... Kiss... My hand like I'm a princess."

Dakota met her brown eyes for a few seconds before a smile broke out on his face, his entire body physically relaxing.

"Thank God it's only the hand."

He held her dainty hand in his own dainty - for a man - hand and gently laid his lips across the back of it. His soft approach turned the tables and the girl blushed.

"Dakota... Did you have to be so gentlemanly?"

"A princess is treated with the utmost respect."

There was a pause between their tennis game of words before Harper smacked the match point with no margin of error.

"Like RAAM treats you, yea?"

"Harper!"

***

Deep in the bowels of the planet a man screamed in agony as little bladed monsters again tore into his back and shoulders with a single minded intent.

"I think he is ready to answer my questions now, General."

The swarm retreated to their master as the smooth, accented voice, feminine and commanding, swirled around the room. Its owner glanced down at the man with cold eyes. They had no pity for mankind.


	6. Chapter 6

As the human was dropped back into the rust bucket he had been dragged from, his wounds split and blood rushed out to greet the air, creating crimson rivers down the mountain of his back, dark and giving the impression of deep scars marring the pale expanse of skin.

Fresh waves of pain crashed down his flesh as the human moved. He groaned and settled in the least painful position, picking at some plague on the wall, losing his hope of escaping as each rusty piece crushed his faith in rescue.

***

The two bodies embedded within the thin sheets remained still until the smaller one awoke, rising from the warm nest she had laid to rest in. Her slight frame quickly attracted the cold, swamped by the sudden temperature change. Her scant clothing draped down her body, some gaping holes glaring out at the world.

Sniffing the air, she grinned at the fragrance of the cold, abandoned, delicious left over Kyrll meat from their daily meal yesterday. It was barely a snack for a puppy, let alone a growing girl like Harper. But, Dakota had told her that the meat was hers to eat that morning.

What surprised the female human most, other than the still asleep male, was the slight sound of clinking metal. Her instincts, finely tuned from the years surviving, could not connect the sound to the heavy duty chains linked to a Berserker; the infinitesimal disturbance was just that. A disturbance. It wasn't a loud gong announcing the presence of the beast woman, steel encased and perpetually raging at everything and anything.

Lurching the door open, she scattered into the nearest shadowed tunnel, bare feet slapping the rock with each rushed step. Within her ribcage, her heart pumped hard, working to supply oxygen kidnapped by her lungs and separated from its family to be used as food for her muscles, her body, her purpose.

The female nearly stopped and returned back to point A, finally coming to her senses and noticing the missing weight of a gun or weapon with which to defend herself; or the warming travel-worn clothes she loved to don for a day's work. But, point B wasn't too far away from A, and she had the lesson of shadows to keep her safe.

"Marcus, have you actually thought this through? Yes, these tunnels _look_ abandoned and uninhabited but that doesn't mean that they _are_."

At the moment of a voice, she dived into the nearest cover, not staying long to expand her chance of being seen. Harper did gaze upon the grizzled face of the man from yesterday, a fierce determination carving it's way into his gruff features. Grey COG issue armour clung to his stature, hunched in appearance.

She raced back home, jumping to find a ruffled male awaiting her.

"Harper. Where have you been? And without proper clothing or protection either."

Angered by the COG trespassers in her safe haven, she reined it in, even after hearing that strain warble around the small room, a cell created for the purpose of rubbing his... No. She needed to focus and tell Dakota where she had been.

"There are COG here. The ones from yesterday."

Shocked, the human rushed into his clothes and weapons, swiping the tags of Mihn Young Kim before he dispersed from the room with a similarly rushed Harper.

She trailed behind him, glancing down at his left leg at times. Hidden under the dark blue trousers he wore... _'Keep focused, girl!'_ She hissed to herself, her brain wincing at the site memories the harsh tone exposed. Wrapped up in her recollection, the girl failed to heed the approaching back and collided with a parked Dakota, knocking him a few steps forward.

"Sorry..."

She whispered, ashamed at herself for walking into him, for wandering into the past when she should live in the future.

Articulating his hands to create the sign for 'Stay here', Dakota double checked that Harper was hidden before he plunged deeper into the tunnels, following the slight tapping he could hear. It wasn't a Berserker, too quiet and mousey to be a Berserker.

Treading perfectly, the human crept towards the source. His eyes leaped upon the group of four humans, legs bending into a crouch. He squatted his way closer, listening to the breathing of the men. There was a small opening up ahead, where he could slip out of and stand in front of them.

There was a possibility they would pump the boy full of bullets but he had faith in their sight.

The opening was easy to slide through, appearing like an inspiration for a cheap horror movie or game jump scare in front of the high-strung tension of the Gears' observing scrutiny. Within the blink of an eye, four loaded guns were aimed at his chest, until one of them sighed and released his tension. His gun swished past his thigh.

"It's just a little boy, men. Put your weapons down."


	7. Chapter 7

Just a boy. Dakota hummed softly, observing the other three men drop their weapons, the dormant barrels no longer pinned on his unprotected chest. He glanced over well used, and polished to a blinding shine, chainsaws. In contrast, his chainsaw was drab and rusty looking, stained by lack of necessary equipment, and an absence of spilled blood, with dark orange rust.

Reminded of his Lancer, the familiar weight of it at his back gave the human slight pause. He was armed to the teeth and one wrong move could be fatal.

"You a Stranded kid?"

"No."

It was a short, simple, uncomplicated answer bestowed upon them by the obviously feral boy blocking their path. The man in the grey armour glanced blue optics critically, taking in the scraps of cloth littered protectively across his torso and hitching a ride from his waist, draping down like the water abandoning the cataract of his frame.

Grass green eyes confidently - or defiantly, his control over the window to his intentions unnerving even to the veteran - stared back, ignoring the braided strands of unnaturally auburn hair as a few rebelling twines splayed across straight but thin-looking shoulders. It was hard to tell with his form swathed in clothes which loosely swayed from his skin, but the boy had a skeletal appearance in some places, ribs and exposed wrists especially. Any exposed skin was torn in some way, some holes, others mere grazes, while a special few held an alikeness to the claws growing from General RAAM's very same hand.

The shirt, proud of confusing the humans in their perception of its wearer, could not obscure the breast pocket pregnant with dark objects.

"What's in the pocket, kid?"

A little speck of black beard wobbled with each lip movement processed by the twitching of the muscles _levator labii superioris alaeque nasi_ and _depressor anguli oris_ , responsible for the movement of the upper lip and lower lip respectively.

Dakota lowered his grass gaze to the pouch in the shirt, moving his eyes back to the sky of the older man's.

"Who are you?"

When the boy spoke at length, the spice of a tick, an ache in his voice became apparent. It didn't seem like it was a throat problem, however. The four men glanced around for clues as to the strain.

"I'm Marcus Fenix. That's all you need to know. Now, what's in your pocket?"

Marcus observed the boy's reaction to his gruff voice, sometimes sounding like he had swallowed nails. Expecting a grimace or something to that effect, the human man was not ready to parry the boy's verbal blow.

"You sound like a Locust."

It was something Baird was more likely to say, rather than the petite - definitely in need of some weight and muscle - teenage human he had just had the pleasure, displeasure if he revealed himself as a Baird Mk ll, to meet. Marcus doubted he would be able to deal with that horror.

"You sound like an old vehicle."

"I don't know what one sounds like."

The admission of his lack of knowledge surprised the men. Not Stranded then. There was at least one vehicle owned by each Stranded Clan. A Stranded kid would know the voice of a vehicle.

Marcus's eyes floated to a black, burly man, bald and shimmering in the low light of the abyss ahead of them. He stepped forward, his constant smile one of ease.

"So you've been livin' all on your own?"

With a voice bubbling to the brim with his extensive energy, the man could be intimidating to the scared. With shrewd eyes, the boy did not back up nor tense. He moved a small head, keeping his eyes upon the face, meeting muddy eyes calmly.

"What's ya name, kid?"

Trying a different tactic, the human closest to the feral kid wasn't sure what he expected. Some long, weird name. Like Handiwork or Screwdriver. Something Baird would love to have had the honour of being called. As such, he didn't expect a normal name.

"Dakota. And yours, Gear?"

"Dakota, huh? I'm the Cole Train."

A thoughtful expression crossed the emotionless desert of his face, eyes squinting at Cole. A few moments passed before he spoke in his strangely strained tone again.

"As in the Cole Train, number 83?"

Dakota was no fan squabbling for an autograph from the former thrashball player, merely curious.

"The one and only, baby!"

Flamboyant as always, Cole smiled wider at even a feral knowing of him.

Dakota shifted his head from the four men in front of him, locking with the foundation of rock beneath his feet.

"She was a fan."

He murmured before looking to the entrance he dashed from. At an unspoken command, a smaller girl surfaced from the shadows, her wiry body as tense as stretched bands.

"Cole, this is Harper. Harper, this is Cole."

The girl, her face obscured slightly by lazily waving strands of light brown hair, dripping past shoulders better off than her male companion's.

Marcus narrowed his eyes as the implication of this shone through the near darkness of the cave.

Dakota may not have eaten a full meal in months, _years_ even.


	8. Chapter 8

The girl - Harper - excitedly shifted her weight from one foot to the other when she was introduced to Cole. Some hair rocked into her eye, prompting the teenager to restrain the excessive enthusiasm with a plain, sturdy band. Each twang of the band was the gong to her hair's arrest.

Her hazel eyes gazed at each one of them, recognition backlighting the exquisite mixture of blue, green and even the sunlight itself. The recognition confused the Gears; they had never seen her and so how had she seen them?

"You're the Gears from that crash, near the Soverign of Houses."

"House of Soverign."

The boy gently corrected her mix up of the building's title. In response, she ducked her head, glancing up through her lashes as a nervous giggle wriggled from her throat.

"So, kids, are these tunnels abandoned by the Locust then?"

Both instantly pinned Speck Beard with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Oh. I'm Dominic. Dominic Santiago. You can call me Dom, though."

Green eyes flickered around the tunnels behind them.

"They are abandoned but sometimes a lone or a pair of Locust travel these tunnels. Lucky for you, none of the regulars are due for the time being."

Frowning at the terminology, Dom braved a step towards the pair of young humans.

"Regulars?"

Confusion flirted with his vocal cords, tickling the ears of a smirking Harper, a devilish glint surfacing through the glaze of her eye.

"He's talking about his Prince charming, RAAM."

"I am not."

"Oh, no. Wrong place. You're talking about the old grandads who come for a massage from you."

"I doubt they're old, or grandads. They are just Locust who I have... met."

"Helped, you mean."

She snorted, her point of view upon his actions in that respect clearly open to the right page. No more was said between the two upon that matter, the boy laying a reckoning peer at her before he commanded everyone's attention merely with words laced with his unique voice.

"You're looking for Lieutenant Mihn Young Kim, aren't you?"

As he formulated the utterance, slender fingers delved between the folds of the breast pocket, latching onto the dark entity packed within. Clinking metal announced the birth of COG tags from the pocket, shimmering like a beacon. Dim light swirling in from the entrance reflected from the tags as they languidly twirled in the air.

Marcus narrowed his eyes against the reflected light, used to the murk of the tunnel and not the clarity of the surface.

"Yes. We are. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a mission to complete."

Calloused hands stretched for the tags, only to be denied contact by the boy. He had stepped back, flicking the tags to his palm.

"You can't get anywhere using these tunnels. They may be abandoned but that doesn't mean adjacent tunnels are."

The warning did nothing to sway the older man's decision but it did spark the interest of a blonde, goggle wearing, machine loving Gear.

"And you know this how?"

He stepped forward, cold blue eyes raised from a trinket in his hand. His voice leaked his cocky, I-don't-like-living-things attitude as a hand rested on the curve of the armour clasped around his hip.

Grass calmly met ice, refusing to be frozen into submission.

"We have lived here longer than you can imagine."

"If so, you should be able to guide us to Nexus, then, won't you?"

Shock spread across both of their faces as the words registered. Harper broke the tension first with a squeaky, whining tone, the one a mother would use to tell off a child after they had made a mess. Especially a stubborn one.

"Nexus?! Are you crazy?"

Her companion also put in his word.

"Nexus is the Locust capital. Are you sure you wish to go there?"

Blonde hair was tossed by a forceful snort.

"What do you think we do for a living? Chat with them?"

"No but-"

"No buts then. You'll take us to Nexus."

Sighing, Dakota composed a reply before he actually answered.

"You will have to pass through two other cities to have clear access to Nexus. Otherwise, you'll have to get through all of their defences. Brumaks patrol the city walls and entrances."

He paused, mentally checking something.

"And we will be able to eat if we go that way."

Harper frowned.

"How can we?"

Dakota merely smiled softly, guarding his secrets behind a friendly facade. She sighed. _More secrets_... It annoyed her, the amount of tricks he had up his sleeve. The girl often said - to herself - that he had more tricks than scars, only just.

She pushed that line of thought away before her mood darkened. During her inner turmoil, Dakota had convinced the Gears to go his way, sacrificing speed for results.

He took point, Harper walking beside him. Becoming in tune with one another, their steps matched, a choreographed, slow duet.

"You could have said no."

She quietly scolded him. She got a little, content, laugh.

"I know. I thought I'd take a leaf out of your book and have an adventure."

The boy smiled down at the girl and she felt happiness thump around inside her mortal body.


	9. Chapter 9

The route the boy had chosen was punishing. Rocks jutted out from the ground like reverse roots, attempting to slice passersby who were distracted or weary. A few times, the group had stumbled from brushing or slipping from a low hanging branch of stone sulking within the shadows. As the Gears trailed behind their Outsider guides, each one had more than their fair share of trips and ankle grabs by the rocks. More than once, one of the men had tumbled to the ground, leg armour rasping stridently over minerals striking out from the murk. Other times, they had to go the long way around because of a small gap their bulky coverings refused to fit through.

Unsurprisingly, the teenagers had no trouble traversing the maze, small, unarmoured, nimble and aware of their footing. Bare feet fleetingly graced the ground before the union was broken by the hurried pace demanded of the attached, athletic and strong, legs. Now, after the length of time it was taking to cross the expansive field of stalagmites, the result of years of the stalactites weeping, constant and unstoppable. Even now, as mortals brushed against their creations and admired them, the fingers peeking out of the rocks above cried, dripping water, saturated with minerals, splatting obscenely loud in the peaceful rhythm of bare skin and weighted boots.

One hand clutched a pair of shoes while the other offered stability and the sense of touch in the darkness where cracked light pools did not have the strength to guide them through. This travel was not safe. However, when was anything truly safe? Sleeping, eating, even spending time with the most precious loved ones, nothing was safe. One momentary lapse of attention could prove to be fatal, or leave the blithering fool completely to the mercurial mercy of Fate. 

This moment was one of the rarity called respite. It was just the high-alert Gears and the equally high-alert Outsiders, working quietly and quickly to abandon the stumps as soon as was possible. No Locust forces rushed from behind to ambush them while they were within the rocks caging them to the vulnerable open.

It was wonderful to the battle ready Gears. A chance to relax their tense bodies some, rest twitching eyes and calm drumming hearts. 

As it turned out - "Thank God for that," Baird muttered in relief - the field was minuscule in size but fenced off by a sheer drop. It was nauseating to look upon, causing vertigo to swim around Harper's mind as she slipped into her shoes, glancing at Dakota to notice his fingers loop the laces masterly and knot the loose ropes into a tight, trustworthy double bow. He raised fluidly to his feet, leaning over cautiously to pick out the safest route for them to descend to the path below.

Most of what they had to tackle was littered with small holes and ledges with which they could use to abseil down the cliff using their bodies as the double-coiled ropes. To their left was more of the same, but with less ways to get down.  Turning to see what options lay to the right, green eyes roved over a shallower slope, crumbling even as he watched it, small lumps tumbling down as a dog sized species of cave lizard skittered down the shale-like hill with innate skill. Lugging not only their weapons but their armour, Dakota knew that they would have trouble clawing their way over each ledge but it looked to be the safer way of working to the bottom.

"We must climb down. I have found the safest way to get down, but it will take longer than if we attempt to carefully go down that shallower area to our right."

He posed the situation to the group, not wanting to force them to bend to his whims and kiss the earth at his feet with the contempt of a slave. Marcus, he believed, thought for a moment, skin pulling up into a frown as he weighed their choices.

Marcus was well aware of the time restrictions they were on, but the sheer cliff could prove to be more dangerous than a slope. He had a feeling either way would go wrong, but the solider figured that the slope would be easier to prevent accidents on.

The second Marcus felt the soft rocks collapse and tumble in a small river down the slope, he should have called them off. But after that small slip up, the ground was still and obeyed the common ground rule. Allow humans to walk all over you.

Near the bottom a cragged set of jagged rocks stabbed at an invisible enemy, lancing at their target with precision. Ahead of Marcus the boy stumbled as a stone bounced from underneath his sure steps, but he regained his balance. The second time, it had been a larger stone, and it had lashed out at the other foot, taking down its much larger opponent in retribution for daring to walk upon its hard back.

Dakota was swept down the slope by dirt and loose pebbles.


End file.
